The writer is a journalist and has extensive experience of monitoring in disasters
I was so late. It was almost one thirty in the hot June afternoon and I was feeling guilty about having kept everyone waiting, but I couldn’t help it. The under-construction road was a torture to travel on and it took nearly two hours to reach Karika from Muzaffarabad.
Jawad was asleep by the time I reached there. He looked adorable with his warm brown hair sticking to his forehead and his head resting on the small table, quite oblivious to his uncomfortable surroundings. I kissed him lightly and he woke up. He realised it was time to head home on the mountains.
Jawad is the youngest of the two hundred students studying in Karika Refugee School. He is five and in the nursery class. He comes to the school with his sister from a village around Karika, travelling on foot for one-and-a-half hours.
The school staff was happy to see me, as always. But I was gloomy that things were not going well and the plans for the school were way behind schedule.
Karika is a sleepy little town at the farther end of the Kashmir valley, and hard to reach. Prior to the earthquake the Karika Refugee School run by Sawera Foundation had been in a proper school building, which completely collapsed in the disaster, with the result that 16 students lost their lives.
After the disaster the school was reopened in tents and around two hundred students continued their education in the temporary shelter. The school was later rebuilt by the Sawera Foundation, but except for the plinth the rest of the construction is of prefabricated material. There is no electricity, toilets, running water, fans, AV aids, blackboards, teaching aids, or pick-and-drop for the students. The classrooms are without windows or vents. The hot, stuffy rooms are more like semi-dark empty boxes.
All children, like Jawad, come to school on foot. The average time for the children to and from school on foot is one-and-a-half to two hours. The children, without exception remain without food all day. There is simply no option.
But despite all these problems what is truly amazing is the result of the class eight in the school; impressive beyond words. These brave children have not only defied all odds to receive education but also have very good results, actually the best in the whole area. The credit goes to the teachers and administration of Sawera Foundation who are running these schools in the most difficult circumstances.
Sawera is the only school in the whole area providing free education to the children of refugee camps and other internally displaced children from Neelam and Leepa living in Karika. Around a hundred students in the school are orphans who have lost one or both parents.
The Kashmiri families that crossed the border in 1990 are still living in camps and they have no means of livelihood except their Rs1,500 government stipend. With the survival money they receive they can hardly afford anything–least of all, their children’s education. There are 32,000 Kashmiris from Indian-occupied Kashmir in Azad Kashmir living in seven refugee camps. Most of these families were also badly affected by the earthquake of 2005, but none of them was given any cash compensation by the government because of their “uncertain status.” The living conditions in these camps are extremely poor. The already bad conditions worsened after the earthquake of 2005.
I look at the camps and think of my home and what it meant to me; a safe haven, my roots, my protection, my belonging and my identity. What would be an appropriate compensation for my home taken away from me? Would I be the same person without my home, forced to live in a tent? The Kashmiri families living in camps have little hope after living in the shabby camps for a generation, but what they still have is the courage to face life despite that.
In occupied Kashmir the Indian government is running five different kinds of schools for children affected by the long-running conflict. The schools make no discrimination in the name of religion or race. These are meant for all children, with the objective of providing education as a basic right of children.
These include Good Will Schools for Boys and Girls. There are 33 Goodwill schools running across Kashmir with 7,000 students, and more are coming up. The Army is expanding the network of their schools and upgrading the existing schools. Work has already started on a Rs100-million project to set up a ”boarding school of international standards” on land provided by the government in Pahalgam. Interestingly the stated objective of the Goodwill schools is to teach Kashmiri children “Basic tolerance and Sufi tradition and emphasise on progressive education”. (Reference: The Indian Express.)
There is also the Kasturba Gandhi Balika Vidyalaya (KGBV). This scheme was launched in 2004, for setting up residential schools at the upper-primary level for girls in difficult areas to provide them quality education. 1,724 schools are functional in twenty four states, including Jammu and Kashmir.
The Indian Army is running child-protection welfare projects like “Operation Sadbhavna” where the children affected by conflict are being taken care off. Under Sadbhavana, the Army has constructed new rooms, dining rooms and toilets. This has vastly improved the general state of hygiene and upkeep of Bal Ashram, which is the orphanage for seven to 16-year-old children. (Reference: Sunaina Kaul Tribune.)
But in the Azad Jammu and Kashmir there is no special arrangement by the state government or the Pakistani government for the education of the refugee children, or the internally displaced children from Leepa and Neelam living in camps.
International agencies like the UNHCR can do little for the Kashmiri refugee because of the complicated political dimensions of the problem. The Kashmiri have actually become a victim of definitions and titles. Their identities are lost in translation and all governments seem unsure as to how to refer to them. Are they refugees or IDPs or migrants, or something else? The question remains that for how long are these Kashmiris and their next generations destined to remain without any identity?
Their status might be uncertain, but the fact is that they are real people with real needs and real problems. They need housing, sustainable livelihood, healthcare, security and education for their children. The government must wake up to the very real needs of the Kashmiri refugees and initiate development programme for their rehabilitation.
Kashmiris, by tradition and culture, are craftsmen, and for centuries Kashmiri fine embroidery on “pashmina” wool has been one of the most sought-after handicraft item in the world. There are Kashmiri refugees who are master craftspeople but they can hardly benefit from their rare gift. It is not only a waste of something priceless and invaluable but also a gross injustice to their next generation, who will not be able to inherit this gift from their parents and elders if they keep on languishing in these poor conditions.
The craftsmen and -women must be identified, appreciated and encouraged in every possible way, so as to preserve and expand their art and craft and to introduce it in the world as a symbol of perseverance and courage of the Kashmiris. http://www.thenews.com.pk/daily_detail.asp?id=188194
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